Nine Minutes (15 page)

Thanksgiving
had come and gone. It was now only a couple of weeks before Christmas. I’d
managed to shop a couple of times with Sarah Jo. I had a nice Christmas gift
planned for
Grizz
, but it was going to take some
time. I told him it would be late. I think he assumed it was something I was
making for him since I had no money of my own and wasn’t going to touch his
money to buy him a gift. He was more concerned about a gift for me.

     
One night, I was
sitting cross-legged on the bed doing homework.
Grizz
,
who had just come out of the shower and was drying himself, had been pestering
me about what I wanted for Christmas. I kept telling him I didn’t need anything;
I had everything I could need or want.

     
“There must be
something, Kit. Anything you want,” he said, a white towel wrapped around his
waist as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to me, his body still
damp. “You name it. It’s yours. I don’t care how much it costs. I don’t care if
it’s something you think is hard to find.
Anything, baby.
Anything.”

     
I closed my book,
touching his arm lightly. “Really
Grizz
. I’m serious.
There isn’t anything.”

     
He pushed my
books out of the way and laid me gently back on the bed. Then in one swift
movement he straddled me and brought his face close to mine. “Okay,” he said,
grinning down at me and kissing my forehead softly. “How about a trip? We can
get a house in the Keys for a couple of weeks. Just the two of us.”

     
I just looked at
him and smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. And after a
few seconds something did occur to me: something I’d been
wanting
to do.

     
“You know, yes,
there is someplace you could take me.”

     
“Name it, baby. I
can have Eddie get you a passport. We could go to Mexico, Paris, anywhere. Name
it.”

     
“I want to go to
church.”

     
As hard as it may
be to believe, I missed church more than I missed my home. I’d come to rely on
my faith for survival from a very young age. I missed the feeling and sense of
peace I got when I was there—the knowing that I was loved unconditionally,
that I didn’t have to do anything to earn that love. I wasn’t required to cook
or pay the bills. I was required to do one thing only: accept Jesus Christ as
my Lord and Savior. I did that when I was nine years old.

     
Grizz
scratched his chin and sat up. “I was wondering when you
were going to get around to asking that.”

     
I looked at him
questioningly.

     
“I know you went
to church every Sunday.”

     
Of course he did.

     
“Kit, I can’t
take you to your church. I don’t even think it would be a good idea to take you
to any church on this coast.”

     
Years later, I found
out
Grizz’s
connections had told him it was my
church, and one nun in particular, who’d pushed investigators to search for me.
Sister Mary Katherine had taken a special interest in me. She was worried about
the young girl who attended Mass every Sunday by herself. She’d become my
friend and my confidant. I missed her more than I missed Delia.

     
When I allowed
myself to think about it, I didn’t miss Delia at all. I just missed the
familiarity of a home. I knew what to expect in that home. Living at the motel
was frightening in that it was fraught with uncertainty. I rarely allowed
myself to think about what was going on outside the door of number four.

     
That’s how I was
able to cope for years with the reality of my husband’s criminal behavior: I
ignored it. I actually pretended it didn’t exist. Of course, there were some
things I couldn’t avoid or ignore, so I played a little mind game with myself.
I called it “that didn’t happen.”

     
When
investigators refused to cooperate with Sister Mary Katherine, she used
Catholic churches up and down the east coast of Florida as a way to keep my
disappearance in the spotlight. Even if it was just within the church circle,
it was kind of
her
to do it.

     
“Why not?” I asked
him now. “If we went just a little north or even south toward Miami, I think it
would be safe.”

     
“I just think
there’s more of a risk of you being recognized. But I’ve got an idea. Trust me.
I’ll take care of it.”

     
And he did. For
many years after this conversation, early every Sunday morning,
Grizz
either took me himself or had someone else drive me
across Alligator Alley to the west coast of Florida. It was about an hour and a
half drive. Sometimes, he would take me over on Friday or Saturday and we would
get a hotel. He never attended church with me. But he was always waiting for me
when I came out. I eventually started attending on my own coast as development
migrated west. But he kept his word in those early years.

     
Christmas and New
Year’s soon passed, and I was approaching my real sixteenth birthday. I wasn’t
sure if
Grizz
knew when it was. I was wrong.
Grizz
knew everything. Well, almost everything.

     
I woke up that
morning and busied myself like I usually did.
Grizz
was outside doing something with Chowder. He peeked his head in number four and
asked me to come outside. When I got outside, there was a shiny new black Trans
Am parked in front of the motel. He was smiling at me.

     
“Do you like it?”

     
“You got a new
car? Of course I like it! I love it! Take me for a ride.”

     
“No, you take me
for a ride,” he smiled. “It’s yours. Happy birthday, Kitten.”

     
He hugged me and
kissed me on the top of the head. I didn’t know what surprised me more—the
fact that he remembered it was my real birthday, or the fact that he bought me
such an unexpected and expensive gift.

     
“The keys are in
it. Let’s go,” he said. “You drive.”

     
“I can’t.”

     
“Why not?”

     
I blushed. “Because
I don’t know how to drive.”

____________

For someone
who knew every detail about my life, this seemed an important one that he missed.

     
“I know you don’t
have a real license, but Ann Marie O’Connell does,” he told me; Eddie had made
me a new license after we were married.

     
“But,
Grizz
, I don’t know how to actually drive. You know,
steering and gas and all that.”

     
“What do you
mean? I saw your driver’s permit last year.”

     
“Yes, I took a
written test to get a driver’s permit last February, but drivers
ed
classes weren’t until summer
school. I don’t need to tell you why I never got to take them.”

     
The look on his
face was comical, and he started laughing hard. “How’d I miss that?”

     
I started
laughing, too. “I don’t know, but you did.”

     
“Hop in. Let’s
go. You’re going to learn to drive.”

     
For the rest of
the month, I got driving lessons from
Grizz
, Grunt,
Chowder and Moe. Whoever was available took the time to give me lessons. But it
was
Grizz
I spent the most time with. There were
certain rules he insisted on. At least in the beginning, I was never to go
anywhere by myself. I was never to go anywhere near my old neighborhood. I
could live with those rules, but he made one exception that angered me: I wasn’t
allowed to go anywhere alone with Sarah Jo.

     
I’d argued back
that he’d told me I couldn’t go anywhere alone, and if Sarah Jo was with me, I
wouldn’t be alone. Besides, he himself had dropped the two of us off at the
movies a few times. But it was no use—he didn’t like it. It wasn’t about
Sarah Jo; he just didn’t like the idea of two young girls riding around in a
Trans Am.

     
“Then you should
have bought me an ugly old clunker,” I yelled.

     
It was our first
real argument, and I fought him tooth and nail. But of course, I didn’t win. I
stayed mad at him for days. I ignored him. I wouldn’t cook for him. I
definitely didn’t sleep with him. I locked myself in one of the unused motel
rooms and did my homework and read my books, only coming out to eat and check
on
Gwinny
. He left me alone, which only made me
madder.

     
Then something
happened that I didn’t expect: I realized I missed him.

     
I guess it was
because I’d been taken from a home where I’d been virtually ignored. Here,
Grizz
lavished me with attention and gifts. At this point
in our relationship, he’d never denied me anything, other than my freedom. Not
counting my first sexual experience with Grunt, he’d never hurt me.

     
Actually, he
spoiled me rotten.

     
Grizz
was quiet. He didn’t talk a lot, but he was
affectionate. And it wasn’t always the sexual affection. He was touchy, always
holding my hand whether in public or strolling out to the pit. If I walked out
to the pit alone, he would pull me down to sit on his lap. I woke up every
single morning wrapped in the warmth and protection of his arms.

     
I tried to think
what I had given him in return. Well, I gave him me, if that counted. I gave
him my loyalty. I certainly could’ve figured out a way to escape and warn Delia
and Vince. But was loyalty enough? By then, I’d started feeling guilty, so I
made my way back to number four. I didn’t know if he would be there or not.

     
He was there,
relaxing in his recliner with his eyes closed. I knew he wasn’t asleep. The
stereo was on. He was listening to one of my albums.
Seals
& Crofts.
“
Summer Breeze”
was playing.

     
I’d accumulated
my own record collection by now. It was rare that
Grizz
and I agreed on the same music. He liked hard rock, and although I liked some,
I also enjoyed easy listening:
Loggins
& Messina,
Bread, Paul Davis,
ABBA
.

     
I stood over him.
“Since when do you like Seals & Crofts?”

     
“Don’t,” he said,
his eyes still closed.

     
“Then why are you
listening to them?”

     
“Because you love
them and I love you and I missed you.”

     
Did he just say
he loved me? My heart thudded.

     
Grizz
opened his eyes then and looked at me.

     
“Does that
surprise you, Kit?” His green eyes were warm. “That I’m in love with you?”

     
I didn’t know
what to say. Even after last year’s explanation of the reason behind his
obsession with me, I’d never heard him talk about love.

     
So I did the only
thing I could think of. I pulled the recliner—and him—into an
upright position. Then I sat down on his lap and wrapped my arms around him.

     
“I love you too,
Grizz
,” I said.

     
And I meant it.
It was probably more of a shock to me than to him.

     
He kissed me
then. “Can you do me a favor, baby?”

     
“Yes,
Grizz
, anything.” I answered him, smiling. I knew what he
was going to ask for, and I was willing.

     
“I have a bad
headache. Can you get me some aspirin?”

     
I pulled back and
looked at him, surprised. “Sure.”

     
“What’s wrong?” I
said, returning with aspirin and some water. “Have you been in the sun or
something too long? You never get headaches.”

     
“Nah. I think it’s
from listening to your music.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was now
March, and I was finally ready to give
Grizz
his
Christmas present. We’d just eaten dinner, and he went to sit down and do some
work at his desk. I went into the bedroom and brought out his gift. It was
heavy.

     
I sat it on the
small coffee table and grinned at him. “Merry belated Christmas!”

     
He turned around
and noticed the present. I must have shocked him. Either he wasn’t used to
getting gifts or he thought I’d forgotten I owed him one. He just looked at me.

     
“Are you going to
just sit there and stare at me or are you going to open it?” I teased.

     
Without saying
anything he got up and started to pick it up with one hand, but I think the
weight of the box surprised him.

     
“Whoa, what’s
this?”

     
“You have to open
it and find out.”

     
He picked it up
with both hands and sat down on the couch. I sat next to him and pulled my
knees up and rested my chin on them. He slowly started to unwrap it. It was a
plain brown box. He opened the box and lifted out one of many individually
wrapped pieces. I watched his face closely as he unwrapped the first one.

     
It was a
customized chess set, all handcrafted pieces of ivory—skulls and other
symbols.

     
He held up the
first piece and looked at me.

     
“How? How did you
get this for me, Kit? If the rest of the pieces are this intricate, it must
have cost you a fortune.”

     
“Doesn’t matter.
Do you like it?” I hugged my knees tighter. “Just tell me you like it. Oh, and
the chessboard is under our bed! It was way too heavy to wrap. You like it, don’t
you?” Suddenly I was worried whether I chose the right gift.

     
“How did you pay
for it?” His eyes were serious.

     
“That’s a
terribly impolite question,
Grizz
. Don’t worry, I
didn’t use your money, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

     
“I’m not thinking
that at all. I just can’t figure out how you came up with this kind of money.” Carefully
he unwrapped every piece, setting them all down in an even line on the coffee
table.

     
I knew the minute
he figured it out. I could tell by the expression on his face. It was one of
only two times I saw something close to tears in his eyes. The second time was
when I showed him a picture of our daughter when I visited him in prison.

     
In barely a
whisper, he said, “You hocked your guitar.”

____________